


So This Is Christmas

by eternaleponine



Series: Clexathon 2016 [12]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Eve, F/F, Family, Foster Care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9019501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Business woman Lexa isn't really into Christmas, especially when it involves last minute shopping for a gift for a nephew she's never even met.  Christmas elf Clarke comes to the rescue.





	

The sound of her heels clicking against the tile was driving Lexa crazy, and she wished that she'd remembered to change into something else before leaving work, but of course she'd forgotten. 

Too busy. Distracted. The story of her life. 

If one could even call it that.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

It echoed in her ears even in the packed confines of the mall two days before Christmas, making her think that someone was following her, and when someone brushed up against her she almost shouted at them to watch where they were going, and happy _fucking_ holidays. But it wasn't their fault, and she bit her tongue.

She went into a department store, glancing at the sign that told her what was where, and headed straight for the shoe department, where she found the first pair of not-hideous sneakers available in her size and bought them, then looked around for somewhere to dump the offending heels.

"You could just put them into the box the sneakers were in," a voice behind her said, and she whipped around so fast to look that she almost gave herself whiplash.

A girl – woman – stood there, sizing her up and smirking like she found what she saw amusing. Pretty – god, _beautiful_ – and blonde, probably her age or a little younger... and wearing a ridiculous elf costume, complete with a pointy hat, candy cane striped stockings, and green felt booties with bells on the curly toes. 

"You might regret throwing them out later," she added. "They look expensive."

"They are," Lexa said. Almost everything she wore was expensive; it had to be to keep up appearances at her job. Dress for success and all that. She hated her entire wardrobe, but it didn't matter. It got the job done, so to speak, because obviously what she looked like was so much more important than what she actually _did_. 

"So just put them in the box," the blonde said. "If you still hate them in the morning, you can always get rid of them then."

Lexa sighed. The elf was right, and she did as she was told, trying not to feel like a chastised child as she did it. "Thank you," she said, because saving her from herself and the temper tantrum she'd been about to have deserved at least that. 

"Of course." 

She expected that the elf-girl would walk away then, her duty done, but she didn't. She stayed there, and when Lexa stood up, trying not to let her relief show as her feet sank into the squashy insides of the sneakers, she offered a hand. "Clarke," she said. 

"Lexa." She shook, firm, two pumps and then release, like she'd been taught by her career coach, or whatever she'd called herself, back when she'd been starting out. She still talked to her periodically, but mostly... mostly she thought she had things under control now. Except every year around this time it all started to feel like it was falling apart, and her right along with it.

"What can I help you with, Lexa?" Clarke asked. 

_Oh._ She worked here. She wasn't some a Good Samaritan in a silly costume; she was just doing her job. That made more sense, she supposed. Did Good Samaritans even still exist? Did anyone go out of their way to do a good deed anymore?

She knew the answer was yes, that plenty of people did, that that was the reason she as here in the first place. So why did she feel so disappointed?

"Nothing," Lexa said. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Because you look... frazzled. To say the least."

"It's just been a long day," she said, not even sure why she was telling Clarke – a stranger – this, or anything. "A long week, really." _A long life,_ she wanted to say, but there was no way she was getting into that with anyone other than her non-existent (but probably necessary) therapist.

"I know the feeling," Clarke said, smiling. "On the plus side, you probably didn't get thrown up on."

"No," Lexa said. "I didn't."

"Then you _might_ be having a better day than I am," Clarke said. "Don't worry. I changed. This isn't what I usually wear."

Lexa frowned. "Wait." But she didn't even know where she was going with that question. Or statement. Or whatever she had been about to make.

Clarke laughed, and wow, she had a nice laugh. And a nice smile. And a nice... well, everything. 

_Get it together, Woods,_ she told herself. _I'm sure as soon as she's finished with work, she'll be meeting her boyfriend for drinks, or home to curl up on the couch with him to Netflix and chill, or whatever couple-y things that couples do._

She wouldn't know. 

It had been a long time since she'd shared her life with any other living thing. Even her unkillable spider plant (so Anya had told her) had died. 

"Oh yeah," Clarke said. "I got puked on _before_ I was in costume. So now I have nothing to change into. Your day still looking like the worst day ever?"

Lexa smiled. Not out of a sense of _schadenfreude_ , but because Clarke seemed to expect her too. _Want_ her to, even. 

"Okay, wow," Clarke said. "You better shut that down right now. I didn't think it was possible for you to get more attractive, but you just did."

Lexa blinked, her smile faltering. It wasn't often that someone could get her feeling so off-balance; she prided herself in being unflappable. Nothing got to her. Nothing touched her. She knew what people at work called her – the Ice Queen – but she chose to take it as a compliment. (It wasn't.) 

"I was joking," Clarke said. "About shutting down the smile, I mean. Not about the offer of help. I'm serious about that."

"Really," Lexa said. "I'm fine. I know you're just doing your job, but I'm sure that there are other people who need help more than I do. But I appreciate the offer."

"My...?" Clarke laughed again. "Oh no. This isn't my job. I'm done for the day. Just waiting for my ride, because of course today is the day that my car decides that it's a good day to die. But she won't be here for at least an hour."

"Then why...?"

"Because you look like someone who could use a little extra helping of Christmas cheer," Clarke said. "Or at least a little guidance to get you out of here as quickly as possible, if that's what you're going for."

"That's what I'm going for," Lexa said. 

"Then let me help," Clarke said. "Tell me what you're looking for."

Lexa sighed, gave in because it didn't look like Clarke was going to take no for an answer. "I need a gift for my sister's kid."

"Boy or girl?" Clarke asked.

"Does it matter?" Lexa asked, and Anya would have laughed at (but agreed with) her feminist agenda, but the truth was she couldn't remember.

Clarke's face scrunched up. "You know what? No. It doesn't. How old?"

 _Shit._ She couldn't remember that either. "Hold on."

She pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her message history, grateful that the details were there, saving her the embarrassment of having to text Luna and ask her. Not that she thought Luna would have minded; at worst she might have sent a few teasing emojis while answering the question. 

"Two," she said. "Almost three, but... maybe a little delayed?" She pursed her lips, not sure how much detail to give. 

Clarke looked at her curiously, but didn't ask. "Great," she said. "I've got a few ideas already. Come on."

She followed Clarke to the section where the children's toys were, immediately overwhelmed by the number of different choices, all in bright colors and half of them making some kind of noise. She wanted to flee, to just get a gift card and go, and let them figure it out once they'd actually had a chance to get to know the kid a little more. But the truth was that Luna asked very little of her; the least she could do was make an effort to be a good aunt and pick out a real present for the kid. On the plus side, he'd been handed over to Luna and Derrick with basically nothing besides the clothes on his back only two days ago, so whatever she got, there was basically no chance that he already had it.

"The advantage to being an elf is that you hear what the kids are asking for," Clarke said. "Or what their parents are asking for on their behalf, when they're little. Which of course is usually whatever they've already gotten for the kid, but you pick up on trends." She pulled a few things off the shelf. "Any of these would be good, I think."

Lexa looked them over, and finally went with the one that made the least amount of noise. It was some kind of convertible something-or-other that was meant for several different developmental stages, which meant that if Luna was right and he did have some kind of developmental delay, it wouldn't become too baby-ish in a few weeks or months. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket again and quickly texted Luna to ask what size he wore.

 **LUNA:** You don't have to get him clothes. 

**LEXA:** Just answer the question.

So Luna answered, and if it was possible to convey a sigh via text, she did. 

It was almost impossible to find gender neutral clothing for kids past infancy, but Lexa did her best, because she hated the fact that before they were even old enough to know that they were being brainwashed, kids were tossed into blue and pink boxes. So she found monsters and robots which as far as she was concerned were good for any kid, and brought it all up to the counter.

"Did you want these wrapped?" the cashier asked. "It's free."

"Yes," Lexa said. "Yes, that would be great."

"Wrapping station is right over there," she said, pointing. "There's a little bit of a line, but it moves fast." She smiled and handed Lexa her receipt. 

"Thank you," Lexa said, taking the packages back.

"She's lying," Clarke whispered. "It doesn't move fast at all. And they expect tips."

"It's... it's not a big deal," Lexa said, suddenly embarrassed at the fact that money was never really an issue for her. She'd worked hard to get where she was, and she earned every penny she was paid. But she was standing next to a woman in an elf suit, who probably got paid minimum wage to put up with cranky kids and their even crankier parents, spending all day on her feet, and here she was helping Lexa when she wasn't even getting paid for it. 

"All right," Clarke said. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure that they'll do a better job than I would if I attempted it myself," Lexa told her. "I don't think I even have any wrapping paper at home." 

"Fair enough," Clarke said. "Do you mind if I wait with you?"

"You don't have to do that," Lexa said. "I'm sure you have better things to be doing. I really do appreciate your help, though. I wouldn't have had any idea what to get."

"I'm sure that I don't have better things to do, actually," Clarke said. "And you're welcome. So it's okay if I stick around?"

"It's okay," Lexa decided. 

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Clarke asked, after a few seconds of silence. 

"No," Lexa said, and was surprised that she meant it. She could always plead the fifth if necessary. 

"You don't seem like the type of person who waits until the last minute to do anything," Clarke said. "I mean, I could be misreading, but you really don't seem like you ever leave anything to chance."

"That's not a question," Lexa said, trying to smile so that Clarke wouldn't think she meant the words as any kind of criticism. "I usually don't. But my sister and her husband got a new foster kid just a couple of days ago, so last minute was all I had to work with."

"Ah," Clarke said. "That makes sense, then."

"I've had Zoe's present for ages," she added, not sure why she felt compelled to say it. There was no need to defend herself, to prove that she had things under control.

"Zoe?"

"Their foster daughter. They've had her since she was five, and she's almost ten now. They would have adopted her already but her mother is being an asshole about relinquishing parental rights, even though she hasn't actually seen Zoe in almost two years, and every time she _does_ see her, it sets Zoe back." 

"That sucks," Clarke said. "You would think, as a mother, you would want what was best for your kid. Even if that wasn't with you."

Lexa grimaced. "The trouble is, some people have different ideas of 'best.'" _And some people just don't care. They think their children are their possessions, and treat them as such._ "But yes. It does suck. They're getting closer, though. The courts are on their side, so..." She shrugged, smiled. "We'll see."

"I hope that it works out," Clarke said.

"We all do." Lexa got up to the front of the line and set her packages down, and the young man behind the counter set to work, removing the hangers (but not the tags) from the clothing and folding them up neatly into boxes, then frowning as he contemplated how best to wrap the big toy. It took a little bit of ingenuity, but finally it was done, and everything was tucked safely into giant shopping bags.

"Happy holidays," he said, smiling at her.

"You too," she said, slipping him a tip that was probably (definitely) overkill but she didn't care into his hand as she took the bags. 

His eyes widened, but so did his beleaguered smile, which made it worth it.

"Are you hungry?" she asked Clarke. 

"I could eat," Clarke replied, which Lexa took to be the polite way of saying that she was starving. "Only..." She gestured at her attire. 

Lexa pursed her lips, then shrugged off her coat, which was long enough to cover most of the get-up. Clarke put it on, then bent down to pull the felt booties off from over her shoes. Lexa tried not to think too hard about what the stuff crusted in the shoe laces was. 

They started to walk, and Clarke caught a glimpse of herself in one of the shop windows and plucked off the hat, her cheeks flushing. "You could have told me!" she said, her tone accusing but her eyes bright with laughter. 

"I kind of liked it," Lexa said. "But now that you've taken it off..." She reached out and smoothed Clarke's hair, trying to fix the flyaways that static had caused. "There."

"Thanks."

As a party of two, they were able to be seated fairly quickly, and were soon settled on opposite sides of a booth. Lexa could practically see Clarke calculating, trying to figure out what she could afford to order, and she reached across the table to touch her arm lightly, her fingertips just brushing the skin of Clarke's wrist where it poked out of the sleeve of her coat. "It's on me," she said quietly. "Consider it a token of my appreciation."

"I can't—" Clarke started, but Lexa shook her head.

"You can," she told her, "and you will. Please. I insist."

"Okay," Clarke said softly. "Thank you."

The waitress came by and took their drink and appetizer order, and as much as Lexa would have loved something to take the edge off, she still had to drive home, so she couldn't indulge. She would make herself a drink when she got home, and probably drink it in a hot bath. 

"So... what do you do when you're not playing the role of one of Santa's helpers?" Lexa asked when the silence stretched too long. 

"I'm an artist," Clarke said. "Which doesn't pay well, so... I take what jobs I can get."

"It doesn't leave you too exhausted at the end of the day to... do art?" Lexa asked.

"Sometimes it does," Clarke said. "Sometimes I just go home and collapse and watch stupid mindless TV. But the things that kids say... sometimes it helps spark my imagination, too." She shrugged. "And you? What do you do?"

"Nothing as interesting as that," Lexa said. 

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know," Clarke replied. 

So Lexa told her. Told her about the business that she worked for, and how she'd climbed her way up to a position where she could actually have some influence, where she could start to shape what they did and the image they presented, where she felt like she might actually be able to effect some change not just within the company, but maybe on a larger scale as well, if things went according to her ten year plan.

Surprisingly, Clarke's eyes didn't glaze over like most people's did, which kept her talking even after their food arrived, and Clarke asked questions that actually made her think, and she asked Clarke what kinds of art that she did, what her preferred mediums were, whether she had anything on display anywhere, and they went back and forth like that until Clarke's phone buzzed, signaling that her friend (she _had_ said friend, hadn't she?) was here to pick her up.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said. "I don't mean to eat and run, but..." She help up the phone.

"It's all right," Lexa said. "Can she wait just a few minutes for us to get the leftovers boxed up? You can take them home."

"I—" Clarke's expression softened. "I'm sure she can." She sat back down, waiting for the waiter to come and pick up their plates, returning with what was left in To Go containers, along with a dessert that Lexa had quietly asked to have included so that Clarke could have it when she got home. 

"Thank you," Clarke said as she took the bag of food. "This was—thank you."

"And thank you – again – for your help with the gift situation," Lexa said. 

"Any time," Clarke said. "I'll—" But she stopped herself. "Have a good night, Lexa," she said. "And merry Christmas."

"You too, Clarke."

She watched her walk away, and paid for the bill without even looking at it. It was only when she got outside and a sudden gust of wind hit her that she realized that Clarke still had her coat.

When she got home, she checked her phone, which had been buzzing at her the entire ride. Two missed calls, a voice mail, and several texts, all from the same unknown number.

 **UNKNOWN:** I have your coat!  
**UNKNOWN:** I ran back in to give it back but you were already gone.  
**UNKNOWN:** I'm so sorry!

She checked the voicemail.

"Lexa! If you're still in the mall, I'm waiting by the restaurant. I have your coat. Luckily you had a business card in your pocket so I had your number, but..." A pause. "I guess if you're already gone, I can just stop by your office tomorrow – are you working tomorrow? No, shit, of course not, it's Saturday, and Christmas Eve. Normal people don't have to work. Shit. Call me so we can figure it out? I'm sorry!"

Lexa tapped the button to call the number back, and Clarke picked up on the first ring. "I'm so sorry!" she said by way of greeting. "I wasn't thinking!"

"It's okay," Lexa said. "Neither was I, and then I didn't check my phone until I got home." 

"So... do you want me to stop by somewhere tomorrow and drop it off?" Clarke asked. "Or I can see if someone can give me a ride to wherever you are now, since you'll probably want it for tomorrow."

"No," Lexa said. "No, tomorrow is..." She bit her lip, swallowed. "Actually. This is going to sound crazy, and please don't hesitate to say no, but... do you want to come to my sister's with me tomorrow? She always does a big Christmas Eve party, and she operates on the idea of the more, the merrier, so... so it wouldn't be a big deal if you came. It's..." She took a breath, let it out slowly. "She's my foster sister," she said. "I never even knew my biological parents; I was in the system from the time I was two. Luna and I... and her brother... we were together from the time I was... six or seven? Mostly. We grew up together. But there's a part of you that never quite gets over feeling like you have nowhere to go on Christmas, that you don't belong anywhere, that you don't have a _real_ family, and... and that's what the party is about. Because she is, they are, my family. As real – realer – than one built on blood. But anyone who has nowhere else to go is welcome, and maybe you do, maybe—"

"Lexa," Clarke said finally, interrupting the stream of words that Lexa suddenly found herself unable to hold back. "Yes. I'd love to. If you can pick me up at the mall at six when it closes – that's when my shift ends – I would love to. If that's not too late."

"It's not too late," Lexa said. "I'll see you then."

"I'll be there," Clarke said. "With bells – and your coat – on."

* * *

Despite the fact that it was Saturday, and Christmas Eve, Lexa went to work the next day. But they closed the office at noon, no exceptions, which left Lexa with way too much time to kill. She knew that if she went home she would just drive herself crazy, so she decided just to wander through one of the main shopping districts, even though she knew it would be busy, to take in the shop windows and try to work up some holiday cheer. 

Without really realizing where her feet had taken her, she found herself outside of an art store. An hour later, she walked out with two big bags and a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was getting this all wrong. And yet she hadn't been able to stop herself, even as she told herself repeatedly that the dinner had been enough, that she didn't owe Clarke anything... except now she was going to brave a family function with her after knowing her for less than two hours, and, well, her family could sometimes be a bit much. So maybe it was a proactive apology for whatever madness she was about to walk her into.

She finally went home and changed, because although dressing up wasn't required, it was encouraged. She probably should have told Clarke that, but Clarke was smart, and she'd mentioned that her mother was a doctor, so she was probably used to the idea that parties were generally a cause for going a little above and beyond, wardrobe-wise. 

She made her way to the Santa area, watching as the last straggling families were shooed out. Clarke saw her and smiled. "I just need to change," she said. "I'll be right back."

Lexa nodded, and stayed where she was even as mall security guards who she was sure just wanted to go home to their families glared at her. She just smiled back, but was grateful when Clarke reappeared... and yeah, okay, wow, she needn't have worried about Clarke knowing how to dress for a party.

"You look beautiful," Lexa said, the words falling from her mouth before she could even think about stopping them. 

"Thank you," Clarke said. "So do you."

"Thank you." Lexa offered her arm. "Shall we?"

Clarke rested her fingers in the crook of Lexa's elbow, falling into step beside her, her slight heels and Lexa's flats mostly evening out their heights. They went out to Lexa's car, where Clarke deposited a few bags that she'd been carrying in the already crammed back seat. "I got something for your sister," she said. "It seemed rude not to."

"You didn't have to," Lexa said. "But I'm sure she'll appreciate it." 

Clarke slid into the passenger's seat and fastened her seat belt, and Lexa backed out of the space and got them pointed in the direction of Luna's house. They rode mostly in silence, listening to Christmas carols on the radio because they were on every station. Lexa tried to give her brief verbal sketches of the people that she would be meeting, but the truth was she never really knew who would show up at the party in any given year, so she was only guessing. The only ones that were guaranteed were Luna, her husband Derrick, her brother Malachi, and their foster sister Anya. They were the core of their family, the ones Lexa would fight and die for if it came down to it. Oh, and Zoe, and the new little boy whose name Lexa either couldn't remember or hadn't been told.

They were lucky to find a space less than a block away (the driveway was already full) which meant that they didn't have to juggle all of the bags for long. Lexa didn't even get a chance to ring the doorbell before the door was thrown open. 

"Auntie Lexa!" Zoe's arms clamped around her waist. With her hands full, the best that Lexa could do was sort of bend to kiss the top of her head. "You came!"

"Of course I came," Lexa said. "Merry Christmas. Now can you let us in?"

"Oops." Zoe grinned. "Sorry." She stepped back so that they could actually get all the way in the door and shut it behind them so as not to let all of the heat out. Not that that was really a concern; with the number of bodies in the place, it would stay plenty warm even if they turned the heat way down. 

It was only then that Zoe noticed Clarke, and she peered at her curiously, half-hiding behind Lexa.

Lexa rested a hand on her back, rubbing gently. "Zoe, this is my friend Clarke. Clarke, this is my niece Zoe."

"Nice to meet you, Zoe," Clarke said, offering a hand, which Zoe shook solemnly. 

"Where's your mom?" Lexa asked. She always referred to Luna as Zoe's mom, because that was how Zoe referred to her. 'My _real_ mom,' she always said, in defiance of those who would have insisted that the woman who gave birth to her was her real mom, and Luna 'only' her foster mom. She didn't talk about her biological mother at all.

"I 'unno," Zoe said. "Probably the kitchen." 

"Okay." She hugged the girl against her side and let her go, making a stop at the tree to put the gifts she'd brought under it before heading for the kitchen with Clarke in tow to find Luna and let her know that she was here.

"Here, hold him," Luna said the second she saw Lexa, thrusting the toddler she had had perched on her hip into Lexa's arms. 

"I—" Lexa started, but she didn't even get to finish because the minute the little boy was in her arms, he started to wail. 

Thankfully, Derrick swooped in and scooped him up a minute later, cradling him against his chest and rubbing his back, bouncing slightly to try to soothe him. "She forgets," he said. 

"What, that kids hate me?" Lexa said.

"Kids don't hate you," Derrick said. "Zoe loves you. So does Tris." 

"Tris is here?" Lexa asked. "I thought—"

"It's complicated," Derrick said. "We're working on it. But Anya picked her up from the group home, and she's spending the night."

"That's good," Lexa said. It was also good that she had a spare Amazon gift card that she could give her. It wasn't as good as getting an actual wrapped gift, but she hadn't known she was going to be here, and she had no idea what almost 13-year-olds were into these days. 

"Anyway, kids don't hate you," he said. "She just forgets that just because she knows you doesn't mean Jakey here does. He's a little overwhelmed."

"He can join the club," Lexa said. 

"Jakey?" Clarke asked. 

"Jacob," Derrick said. "We call him Jake, or Jakey. Huh, buddy?"

The now sniffling and pouting but not wailing little boy just buried his face against Derrick's chest, peering out at them with one eye.

Clarke smiled. "That's a good name," she said, reaching out and jiggling his foot a little. "That was my dad's name." 

"Was?" Derrick asked.

Her smile wavered slightly, and Lexa reached out laid a hand on the small of her back without thinking. "He died when I was in high school," Clarke said. 

"I'm so sorry," Derrick said, and meant it. That was the thing about Derrick – he was absolutely genuine, about everything, all the time. It was the reason, or one of the reasons, that Luna loved him, and also one of the reasons that Anya and Lexa had agreed to let her marry him, young as they were. They were good at spotting liars, fakes, frauds, and he was none of those things. 

"Thank you," Clarke said. 

"Sorry," Luna said, coming back from whatever had so urgently demanded her attention. "Merry Christmas!" She wrapped her arms around Lexa, and Lexa hugged her back, tight, wondering – as she always did – why she didn't make the effort to see her sister more. Sure, her house was sometimes chaotic, but Luna was the calm in the eye of the storm, and just being near her was enough to make Lexa feel a little more at peace.

"Merry Christmas," she said. "Luna, Derrick, this is my friend Clarke. Clarke, my sister Luna and her husband Derrick." 

"I can see the family resemblance," Clarke said with a wink. "It's nice to meet you." She accepted Luna's hug like it was the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it was for her. Lexa didn't know; she didn't really know her at all. But she wanted to. 

"Just wait until you meet Anya," Derrick said. "It's uncanny."

"I can't wait," Clarke said. 

"Let's go find her," Lexa said.

"I think she's in my room," Luna said. "Dealing with a teenage fashion emergency."

"Got it," Lexa said. "This way."

Clarke caught her hand as they made their way through the shifting groups of people. Not that the house was so big that she could really get lost, but it kept them together, and Lexa couldn't say that she really minded. 

Once they were upstairs, though, Clarke let go. Lexa tapped on the first door at the top of the stairs. "Anya?"

"Just a second." It was more than a second, but less than a minute, before the door opened, revealing Anya, and behind her a sullen-looking girl. "Lexa!" She pulled her into a quick hug. "Look who's here, Tris."

"I see her," Tris said. 

"Shark attack," Anya murmured. "For the first time. Great timing, huh?"

"Don't talk about it!" Tris said, crossing her arms. "Just... don't fu—" She stopped at Anya's glare. "It's not anybody's business but mine."

"You're right," Anya said. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't even want to come," Tris said. "This isn't my family anymore."

"Hey," Lexa said, stepping into the room. "Hey." She put her hands on Tris' shoulders, looked her right in the eyes. "This is always your family," she said. "No matter where you go, we are your family. Do you understand?"

"You don't get to get rid of us that easily," Anya said, putting her hand on Tris' back, and they both felt it when her breath hitched, but it was Anya that she turned to, Anya who she wrapped her arms around, and Lexa didn't fault her for that. "It's okay, kiddo," she said. "You're all right. You're going to be all right."

Lexa looked back at Clarke. 'Sorry,' she mouthed, and waited for Tris to get her emotions back under control before making introductions. Clarke commented on Tris' shirt, and she said that she'd made it herself, kind of, and that got them talking about artistic things, which gave Lexa a minute to talk to Anya. 

"Derrick said it's complicated," she said. 

"Yeah," Anya said. "The system is dicking them around with her, just making it really complicated, and I get it, but at the same time... being in that group home is not doing her any good. At all."

"If there's anything I can do..." Lexa said.

"Maybe," Anya said. "I'm actually..." She glanced at Tris, who was still deep in conversation with Clarke, her earlier upset apparently completely forgotten. "I'm trying to take her myself," she said. "I'm almost through the process, but if I could put you down as a reference..."

"Of course you can," Lexa said. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure I want to help her," Anya said. "It seems like the only way is to get her out of the foster system altogether."

Lexa's eyes widened. "You're adopting her?"

"Trying to. Don't say anything, though. Until everything's in place... I don't want to get her hopes up."

Lexa nodded. "Wow."

"I know, right?" Anya laughed. "I just... remember what it's like, you know?"

"I know."

Anya wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "So... Clarke?"

"A friend," Lexa said. "I actually just met her yesterday. She helped me pick out a present for Jake. Kind of a long story."

"You just met her yesterday, and here she is today, at a family party. _The_ family party."

"It's Orphan Christmas," Lexa said. "Her father passed away and her mother is off doing _Medicins Sans Frontieres_ or something like it. She wasn't able to get home for the holidays. I couldn't just let her spend the holiday alone." Never mind the fact that she hadn't actually known about her mother until today, and her father until just now. It was just a little white lie to keep Anya from reading more into it than was actually there.

"Are you coming down?" Derrick called up. "We're just about ready to eat!"

At the mention of food, Tris was down the stairs like a shot, leaving Clarke and the conversation that had ended mid-sentence blinking in her wake. Lexa smiled. "Luna's a good cook," she said.

"Derrick's a better one," Anya added. "I hope you're hungry."

They all sat down around the table, which had been expanded as big as it could go, and still didn't hold everyone, so some people ate at the kitchen table, and Tris and Zoe and a few kids that Lexa didn't know (nor did she know who they belonged to, only that they didn't live here) opted to pile up cushions and eat at the coffee table in the living room. Lexa made sure that Clarke had a seat next to her, and was grateful for her calm presence as five conversations competed for dominance at the table. 

When the meal was over, they helped clean up, and then headed to the living room to watch the kids open their gifts. Tris seemed happy enough with the gift card, waving it at Lexa and beaming, and Zoe nearly tackled her in delight at the treasure trove of Harry Potter stuff that she'd spent the last several months accumulating. "Ravenclaw!" she said, wrapping herself up in the blue-lined robes. "Yes!" Ravenclaw was her favorite house, and small wonder, given that one of the main characters from it was Luna Lovegood. Zoe had latched onto the character from the first time she was mentioned, convinced as only a child could be that there had to be some connection between the Luna in the books and her mother. 

"That's my house, too," Lexa said, hugging her. 

"What about you?" Zoe asked Clarke. "What house are you?"

"Gryffindor," Clarke said.

Zoe looked her up and down, and nodded. "Okay," she said. 

"I'm glad you approve," Clarke said with a laugh. 

"Lexa," Luna said. "Jake's opening your gift."

"He'll probably like the box more than the gift," Lexa said. "Isn't that how it goes?"

"Sometimes," Luna said, smiling. She peeled away one corner of the paper to give him a place to start tearing, and soon shreds of paper were everywhere as he ripped into it with gusto. Once the box was unwrapped, Derrick quickly pulled out a pocket knife to slit the tape, extracting the toy from the box and setting it in front of Jake. For a minute he didn't seem to know what to do, but after Luna demonstrated, he quickly figured it out, and soon he was charging around the room with it, squealing and jabbering with delight. (Definite speech delays, Luna said, but she hoped that he would make them up. They were still working through all of the testing.) 

"Looks like you picked a winner," Lexa said, nudging Clarke.

"What can I say?" Clarke said. "Not just anyone gets to work at the North Pole."

"Long story," Lexa said at Luna's curious look. "I'll tell you another time." 

The party wore on, and the guests started to leave, including Malachi (who she'd barely gotten to talk to, except to learn that he was engaged and his fiancée was very, very pregnant, hence why she'd opted not to come). Once the first few went, it was a steady stream out the door, until the only ones left were the ones that Lexa truly considered family... and Clarke. Who felt as if she belonged here just as much as the rest of them, which was both comforting and unsettling, given how little they knew of each other still.

"Oooh," Tris said, pointing above their heads as they stood in the living room doorway.

Lexa looked up. Mistletoe. Had that been there before? 

"Watch out for the Nargles!" Zoe said, still wearing her robes.

"You have to kiss!" Tris said. 

"No one has to do anything," Luna said gently. 

"I dunno," Clarke said. "It _is_ tradition. We wouldn't want to upset the Spirit of Christmas."

Her eyes were bright as she looked at Lexa, a tease or maybe a dare. 

"No," Lexa agreed. "We wouldn't." She lifted her hand to touch Clarke's cheek, her thumb sliding along her jaw as their lips met, and it could have just been a brushing of the lips, a barely there whisper of a kiss just to satisfy the tradition... 

... but it wasn't. 

Oh, it wasn't.

This was a Kiss with a capital K. The kind that left you breathless, that melted your insides and turned your joints liquid. This was a kiss that tasted of cinnamon and hope, and felt like coming home. 

When their lips parted Lexa opened her eyes, not knowing what she would find, not daring to hope that she would find anything more than that same gentle amusement that had been there at the start. But no... no, Clarke was not amused, not anymore. There was no more teasing in her eyes. The look on her face was one of someone whose world had been shaken like a snowglobe, and now she was watching all of the swirling bits settle again. 

And then the world came back, the sound of the girls laughing and cheering, Anya's low whistle that would usually have earned her a rude gesture, but there were kids in the room. 

"Happy?" Lexa asked, mock-scowling at Tris.

"Not as happy as you are, I bet," she replied, and Anya snorted, and that set everyone off. 

They went to the couch and sat down side by side, and family gifts were exchanged, and Luna was thrilled with the basket of food and kitchen goodies that Clarke had gotten. "I didn't actually know that you liked to cook," Clarke admitted, "but it seemed a reasonable gamble."

"It's perfect," Luna said. "Thank you so much." 

"You're welcome. Thank you for having me."

"Anything for my sister," Luna said. "I hope that you had a good time?"

"I had a great time," Clarke said. 

"Maybe we'll see you again next year," Luna said. "Once you're here, you're family."

"Isn't that the Olive Garden slogan?" Anya asked.

Luna held up her middle three fingers. "Read between the lines," she said.

Anya laughed. 

"We should probably get going," Lexa said. "I'm sure that you want to get Jake to bed."

"And Santa doesn't come if you don't go to sleep," Clarke added. 

"Santa—" Tris started, but stopped at Anya's hand on her shoulder and a quick shake of her head. 

Lexa wasn't sure that any of them had ever actually believed in Santa Claus, and she was betting that Zoe didn't either, because Luna and Derrick made it their policy that they would never lie to their foster kids (except sometimes by omission, and then only if absolutely necessary) which included such seemingly harmless things as Santa Claus. But that wasn't really something that they needed to get into right now.

"All right," Luna said, standing up so she could hug Lexa again. "I like her," she whispered. 

"Me too," Lexa whispered back.

"Don't run away from it," Luna said, kissing her cheek. "Not this time." 

Derrick was next, and then Anya, who of course also had some advice to dish out. "You're allowed to be happy, Lexa," she said. "Remember that."

Lexa nodded, and hugged the girls and patted Jake's head where he was cuddled into Derrick's chest again. 

"You should kiss her again," Tris told her. "I'm just saying."

Lexa had no idea if any of them had said anything to Clarke, and if they had, Clarke didn't mention it. A few minutes into the drive, though, she looked over at Lexa and said, "I don't want to wake up on Christmas morning alone."

Luna's words echoed in her mind, and then Anya's, and they were right. (She would never admit it to them, but they usually were.) "Neither do I," she said. 

"Come home with me," Clarke said. "If you change your mind, you can always just drive home."

"Okay," Lexa said. "Just tell me where to go."

Clarke gave her directions, and in what seemed like no time at all, they were pulling into the parking lot of an apartment building that wasn't anywhere near as fancy and modern as Lexa's, but it wasn't a dump, either. Inside the apartment, it was controlled chaos, with canvases everywhere, some blank, some finished, and many somewhere in between. Lexa set down the bag she was carrying, the overkill gift that she'd gotten for Clarke, and looked around, trying and failing to take it all in, so she just focused back on Clarke's face. 

"Hold on," Clarke said. She went over to a chest that sat along one wall and lifted the lid. She seemed to be contemplating its contents before coming back a second later with a small palette, a brush, and a little cup of water. She dipped the brush into the water, and then into one of the little squares of paint, before turning and applying it directly to the wall. A few quick swirls of the brush and she seemed satisfied. 

"Mistletoe," Lexa said. 

Clarke nodded, and then pressed her back against the wall underneath it, the kiss gentle, and then not so gentle, and then gentle again. "It's all I have to give you," she said. 

"It's more than I ever hoped for," Lexa said. "Better than I ever dreamed."

"We're going to need to work on your imagination, then," Clarke said. "Let me show you the rest of the place."

Which, it turned out, just meant showing Lexa her room... her bed... and then all of herself. Which was enough, and more than enough, and later, sometime after midnight, sweaty and soft and sated, she kissed Clarke again, and again. "So this is Christmas," she whispered. 

Clarke kissed her, smiled, and drew the blankets over their tangled bodies to keep off the chill. "Merry, merry Christmas."

**Author's Note:**

> To the Anonymous person on Tumblr who sent me this prompt - 
> 
> If there was mistletoe in the vicinity, I would kiss you. I loved writing this. I love the little family that I created, and I really hope that you all do too, because it's very likely I will write more about them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> To everyone, I hope you are having a happy, healthy and safe holiday season, or if you're not into the holidays, a great weekend! ♥


End file.
